The Burrow was filled to the very brim with family. I was sitting on the stairs, trying to work on my final plan to become the Minister of Magic. I shouldn’t have tried. The Burrow made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team look like they spent the entire day sipping tea.
James Potter, Hugo Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lily Potter, Victoria Weasley, Bill Weasley, Fleur Weasley, George Weasley, Angelina Weasley, Percy Weasley, and a whole lot more were jammed into the Burrow’s four bedrooms. All of the children were losing their stuff, and yelling to accuse someone else of taking it. Chocolate frog cards were scattered all over the floor, and Hugo and Lily raced around tripping everyone.
This was why I hated Christmas.
I focused on my parchment, grabbing the edges as it waved in the wind. Mum and Dad had just come into the house, bringing in the chilly winter air along with them. Sighting me on the stairs, Mum walked towards me.
She sat down.
“Hey, Rose” she said in a light tone. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Are you doing homework?” She reached and grabbed my plans gently.
Horrified, I pulled it away from her. “Don’t look at it!” I growled. The same feeling that had overcome me on the Hogwarts Express came back. “Do you just have a need to touch every single thing? Gosh, Mum. Stop being so grabby!”
Mum stood up. I could see the hurt in her brown eyes, and Dad stood beside her.
“Teenager alert,” he said, trying to joke.
I glared at him and folded my parchment. “Don’t call me a teenager!” I yelled, and pounded up the steps.
“Rose, come back!” Dad yelled. I ignored him and kept going, heading for the attic on the fifth floor.
On the way Lily and Hugo ambushed me. Both of the two brats grabbed one of my legs and smiled up at me. Once upon a time I may have smiled and played along with them, but that Rose was the weaker, nicer one. A future Minister of Magic could not be weak.
“Get your hands off of me!” I snapped at them. Hugo let go first, and sat on the ground, probably astonished that his sister was so grown-up.
Lily tumbled off. Her red hair was sticking up from where it had rubbed against my leggings.
“Rose, why are you being so mean?” she asked. I stamped my foot.
“I am not mean!” I shouted. I left the two younger children and continued going up to the attic.
“Mummy, Rose is being mean to me!” Hugo shouted.
Mum’s voice rang through the house. “Rose Weasley, get down here this instant!”
“No!” I yelled down the stairs. I reached the fifth floor and pushed the brown door open. It smacked against the wood with a bang.
Steaming, I locked the door and sat behind it. My parchment was wrinkled, and to my disgust still had tear stains from the train ride.
Why won’t they just do what I want? I thought furiously. This is all I want, and they are making it so hard to accomplish my dreams!
There was a loud knock that vibrated through the door and went into my body.
“Rose? Are you in there?” It was Mum. I didn't answer, and I heard her sigh. “Look, I don't know what’s gotten into you, but I just want you to know that everyone’s worried about you. You’re usually not this, angry. Just know that we’re here if you want to talk, okay?”
I didn’t respond. Mum had said “we’re all worried about you”.
“That’s it!” I whispered excitedly, and grabbed the Muggle pen and my parchment.
Strategy for becoming minister:
Be mean. Everyone pays attention to you when you are. Being nice is a sign of weakness, but when you’re mean people want to know more.
I sighed and placed the pen on the floor. I didn’t yearn for the weak Rose, the one who I used to be, but sometimes my heart didn’t obey my brain.
Stop wishing! I told myself. You’re willing to do anything to become Minister. If that means having everyone hate you— so be it.